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plastic glue
Monday, July 5 1999
I had the day off from work because of the whole extended July 4th weekend phenomenon (though I'm sure my sweatmasters would have been delighted had I decided to go to work anyway). Kim had classes in the morning and work in the evening, so I had much of the day completely to myself. I walked downtown in the middle of the day to do a little shopping. Most of the stores were closed, though the restaurants were jammed with hungover breakfast patrons. Both the Rite Aid and the hardware store were open, so I bought some much-needed tools as well as some plastic modeling glue, hoping to be able to use it to fix my laptop, which, as you recall, Kim fucked up yesterday in a fit of rage.
There was, by the way, one thing gained from Kim's flinging my laptop against the floor. It caused the thing to pop open in such a way as to reveal parts that I had hitherto found impossible to access. So I was, for example, able to unhook the backlighting light to find out what a laptop display looks like with absolutely no backlight. I'd had in my mind that if I could see anything at all on the display with no backlight, then I could wire in a switch and opt to turn that part off in certain situations to save power. But it turns out that a laptop's display is absolutely void unless the backlight is working. Its LCD display apparently doesn't work on quite the same principle as a conventional calculator's LCD display.
Like most couples, Kim and I have plenty of dull cooking knives. I'm not especially handy around the kitchen, but I have a certain Cro Magnon facility with tools. Tonight we had a slight dull knife crisis, and with nothing else to sharpen the knife, I used a Cervesa Sol beer bottle as a sharpening stone. I was working under the principle that glass, even smooth glass, is hard enough to serve as a honing surface. (My Dad uses an old broken drinking glass of a certain size to sharpen his razor blades.) It took awhile, but I am here to report that the beer bottle technique worked just fine.
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